Reflection
by Numbatstuff
Summary: The final story in my series  Inspiration, Separation, Desparation, Reflection - in that order . Based upon Episode 5 of TPOTE miniseries. Rated M for more Tom/Ellen hotness.


This should be the final Pillars story in my Tom/Ellen arc and follows on from Inspiration, Separation and Desperation (in that order). It's based upon Episode 5 of the mini series and it will make much more sense if you've seen the episode.

Just to explain a little, the story consists of five separate scenes; three of which occurred in the show and two that didn't. Like my other M rated stories, it contains it's fair share of Tom Builder smut, so be warned.

I have to admit that for as much as I loved TPOTE, I was quite dissatisfied with the treatment that Tom received in this episode. For me, the problem with his portrayal wasn't just his death (which I knew was coming), but the disparity between his determined, rock solid strength versus his seemingly placid acceptance of the situations that were presented to him. It could be argued that he strongly believed in the concept of "God's plan" for his life, but I think that even if he had believed in this, he would have still stood up for his beliefs to a greater extent than he did.

So my vision of him is of a man with great strength of his convictions and who stood up and fought for what he believed to be right and true.

I haven't done this in any of my other three Pillars stories, but I do usually accompany each of my fics with a soundtrack. Now I know Tom Builder pre-dated The Boss by some 800 years, but I just think that this song is a perfect match, not only for Tom but for Pillars in general.

And so this is Tom's song, the real Tom's song, the song for the Tom who would "spit in the face of these badlands"

Soundtrack: Badlands – Bruce Springsteen

"Working in the fields til you get your back burned  
Working 'neath the wheels til you get your facts learned  
Baby I got my facts learned real good right now  
You better get it straight darlin'  
Poor man wanna be rich  
Rich man wanna be king  
And a king ain't satisfied til he rules everything  
I wanna go out tonight, I wanna find out what I got  
Well I believe in the love that you gave me  
I believe in the faith that can save me  
I believe in the hope and I pray that someday it may raise me  
Above these badlands"

…

"Marry me…" Tom whispered. He nuzzled his face into hers. Kissed her. Ran his big rough hand down her naked body.

Ellen smiled up at him. This was her favourite time, making love with him in the flickering firelight of her cave. Safe and warm and loved in his strong arms.

"Marry me…" he whispered again, tickling her face with his beard, thrusting into her, deep and long and hard.

She shook her head. "No," she laughed, moving her hips up to meet his. Tom asked her this same question every time they met.

There was nothing to match the feeling of having his big cock buried inside her, his strong warm body pressed up against hers. But she still refused to marry him, still couldn't accept his assurances that he would keep her safe from Waleran Bigod.

"Marry me, live with me, bear me a child," he murmured, his hand pulling her knee up high against his hip so he could angle deeper inside her.

She drew breath sharply, taken aback by his bold words. He'd never taken it this far before. Never asked her to bear him a child. What was he thinking?

She stopped moving, pushed him off and away from her.

He groaned and rolled reluctantly onto his side.

"No Tom. We've been through this a thousand times." She shook her head in annoyance. It was bad enough that he never stopped asking her to marry him; she didn't need him asking her to bear his child.

"Ssssh." He put his finger gently to her lips. "Yes we've been through this a thousand times, and a thousand times you've said no. But now I think we've waited long enough. I've spoken to Philip and he's agreed that if you return to live at Kingsbridge and we marry in the sight of God, he'll take it as a sign that you've returned to the church. He won't ask anything else of you."

He shook his head, as he spoke quietly. "It's a good compromise Ellen."

"But what about Waleran? It's really not as easy as you make out Tom." She was annoyed at his simplistic view of the situation.

"Ellen, we see Waleran very, very little." He leaned on his elbow, ran his finger slowly down her cleavage to her belly. "If you come quietly to the village, if we marry under God and we live together as husband and wife in a priory town, if we raise a family, he has little power. Philip will stand up for you if he tries anything and you'll have the backing of the Priory."

"But what if that's not enough?"

He kissed the side of her neck. "If that's not enough, then if and when Waleran decides to make trouble, we'll make a decision. You can return here to hide out or we can leave Kingsbridge. Find somewhere away from his influence. But I won't let him have you."

"But what about the cathedral? You couldn't leave it for my sake. I wouldn't ask you to do that."

He touched his finger to her chin, turned her face towards him, his clear green eyes boring into hers. "I don't honestly think it'll happen Ellen, but you surely know that I'd put your safety ahead of the cathedral. Either way, you'll be safer living in the village as my lawful wife than you are right now, living as a witch in a cave in the middle of the forest."

She shook her head, got up and pulled on her robe. Padded over to the fire and slowly sat down next to it, staring into the flames.

He stayed lying on the bed, watching her thoughtfully.

Eventually he spoke. "Surely you can see how precarious your position is here. The longer you stay, the more likely you are to be found out. And when that happens, when Waleran finds this cave with your books and your herbs and Jack's carvings, you'll burn for sure. And you'll not receive any protection from Philip."

"I've been safe enough for all this time," she replied stubbornly.

He spoke sharply. "You have been safe by the grace of God, Ellen. And even he is going to lose his patience soon."

She was silent. He never spoke to her this way. He was a gentle man. Kind and patient. A man of few words. Until it came to this subject.

He sighed and turned, lay on his back. Stared up at the cave ceiling, hands behind his head. "I've had enough of this. We've done it your way for five years now. For five years I've lived apart from you, I've brought up the children, including your son, as best I could, I've come here as often as is humanly possible to spend time with you. But I'm tiring of it now."

"You're tiring of me?" She frowned.

"No, of course not," he snapped in frustration. "I'll never tire of you Ellen. You know how I love you. You know what you do to me. But I tire of this arrangement. I want more from our lives. I want more from you."

He paused.

"I agreed to it because you convinced me you were in danger, but I don't believe that to be the case anymore. I'm beginning to suspect that we're living this way because it suits you..."

"Tom…"

He raised his eyebrows. "Let me finish. I'm beginning to suspect that we're living this way because it suits you Ellen. It suits you to have your freedom, to not be bothered with the daily routine of normal life, to not be bothered by me and the family. It suits you, but you must understand that it doesn't suit me." He turned his head to look at her. "I'm not prepared to continue like this anymore."

"You're not prepared to continue like this anymore. What does that mean Tom?" She frowned, surely he wasn't going to leave her.

He shrugged simply, spoke quietly. "It means that I want you to marry me Ellen. I want you to marry me and come to Kingsbridge and live with me in our house like a husband and wife should."

She shook her head.

"And when you're my wife," he continued, "I want you to stop taking the herbs that you use to prevent having a child. I believe God should decide whether we have children. You're still young enough to bear a child, still younger than Agnes was when she gave birth to Jonathon, and I'd like to have a family with you. A proper family. I have Alfred and Martha and Jonathon, and you have Jack, but I want us to have some children together. To be a real family, Ellen"

"No Tom. That is not going to happen." She was shocked by his forthright words. She hadn't realised he felt this way and it made her uncomfortable.

"Why Ellen? Why do you not want us to live a normal family life?"

"You know why Tom Builder." She stared into the fire, mesmerised by the flicker of the flames, not wanting to have this conversation.

He sighed. Sat up slowly. Swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled his clothes on in silence, laced up his boots.

"What are you doing?"

He was silent. Walked resolutely to where his cape lay on the table and swung it over his shoulders.

"Tom?"

He picked up his bag. Turned to her.

"I think it best I leave Ellen. I don't think you understand what I'm saying to you. I'm no longer asking you to marry me, I'm telling you that's how it must be. If you're not prepared to live a proper life with me then I think it best that we part. If you can't bring yourself to be a wife to me, I need to find a woman who will."

"I suppose you expect me to come running after you. To beg you not to leave," she said cynically.

He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head. "No, I wouldn't expect that from you for a second, Ellen."

" And what do you mean by that Tom Builder?" she said indignantly.

"I don't mean anything. I'm just stating a fact," he said quietly. "I've been running here to you over and over again for five years now. Rarely in that time have you even been to see me let alone come running."

"No," he paused, "I don't expect you to come running. But if you change your mind, if you decide that what we have is worth something, if you decide that I'm actually worth enough to you to make a compromise for, then you know where I am."

"Tom…"

He stopped in the cave entrance, turned to face her. "You must know how much this hurts me Ellen. I don't want to do this. But I don't have any choice."

"Of course you have a choice Tom," she replied, quietly.

But he was already gone.

…

"Up you go, I'll be right behind you." Tom tilted his head towards the ladder leading up into the scaffold of the cathedral. Jonathon had been asking him for weeks if he could climb up the structure and Tom thought that this was the ideal time to take him up. The little boy didn't need to see the bear die, even if it was going to heaven.

They climbed up together, higher and higher, Tom guiding him, helping him get over the difficult spots.

"There you are," he said to Jonathon finally as they stood together high up in the scaffold. "Don't get too close." He put his hand protectively on the boys shoulder as he moved closer to the edge of the construction.

The boy looked out over the expansive view of the countryside that stretched endlessly in front of them and Tom could see the awe on his face. "I can see everywhere. I can see London and the ocean. I can see heaven."

Tom smiled. Ruffled the boy's hair. He wasn't often able to spend time alone with his son, and the child's unbridled joy at this new experience warmed his heart.

"Jonathon… I mean Brother Jonathon I'm sorry," Tom crouched down next to the boy so he could talk to him face to face. "There's something I want to tell you…"

"I think I can see an angel," the child interrupted excitedly.

"Listen to me?" Tom asked. He looked at him directly, tried to get his full attention. "You know how you and I are friends, yes? Well suppose I was to tell you that we were something closer than friends."

He paused, "now when Jack went away, for me that was sort of like losing a son, because…."

"I really missed Jack. I'm glad he's come back and he's living with us now."

Tom nodded, "I missed him too, he's always been like a son to me because I love his mother Ellen very much, just like I did your mother. I knew your mother Jonathon."

"You did?" The boy looked at him, his eyes wide.

Tom nodded. "I did. I knew her for many, many years right up until she died. I loved her very, very much."

"Was she beautiful?"

"She was one of the most beautiful people I've ever known," Tom replied sincerely. "She was beautiful here," he touched the boys cheek, "and more importantly, she was beautiful here," he rested his hand on his chest, right over his heart.

Jonathon smiled, his eyes bright.

"So, I was thinking that seeing as I loved your mother, that maybe she would like me to be a father to you, just like I am to Jack."

The child looked at him excitedly. "Does that mean I could come to live with you like Jack used to?"

Tom chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Well, it will have to be a little different than for me and Jack, because Prior Philip still wants you to live at the priory, but I thought we could try and spend a bit more time together. Maybe you could come and eat with us sometimes. Spend some evenings at our house."

He nodded "I'd like that. Sometimes it gets boring just eating with the monks. It's much more fun when I'm with Martha and you and Albert. Or when we have visitors."

"And if you would like me to," Tom said, looking out over the countryside, "I could start to teach you to become a mason. Just like I taught Jack and Alfred. And maybe one day you can be a master builder, just like I am."

He paused.

"Maybe one day, when I'm gone and Alfred's gone and Jack's gone, you can take over the building of the cathedral. Maybe you'll see it finished."

The boy nodded.

"It'd mean a lot to me to know that you'd see the cathedral finished Jonathon."

"Brother Jonathon."

Tom laughed. "Yes, I'm sorry, Brother Jonathon. I think it'd mean a lot to God to know that his cathedral was finished by a master mason named Brother Jonathon. And it'd mean a lot to me."

"Does it make you sad?"

Tom frowned, "does what make me sad?"

"That it takes so long to build a cathedral. Why does it take so long?"

"Well… important work like this can't be rushed," Tom said quietly. "It has to be done carefully and precisely. Each and every block of stone has to be shaped. It has to be exactly square, the edges sharp, so it'll fit together exactly with it's neighbour. And then other blocks need to be shaped in other ways for doorways and arches. It can take even a master mason a good few hours to shape a block properly. So to build a cathedral like this, takes patience and precision and dedication to God."

Tom stood, his knees weren't what they used to be and they'd begun to stiffen in the crouching position.

"I think it will be beautiful when it's finished," Jonathon said, tipping his head back and staring up at the scaffold above him.

"Oh, yes it will," Tom nodded. "Very beautiful. It will soar up to the sky, right up here where we are now. And even higher, above our heads. And you'll be able to stand inside and look up at the light streaming through the high windows, and know that God is there."

"I'd like to see that."

"You shall Brother Jonathon. I'll talk to Philip and we can get you started soon working with me for a little while each day." Tom smiled, "it'll be your birthday soon won't it?"

The boy beamed. "Yes, I'm going to be six."

"Six." Tom raised his eyebrows. "Well, you're almost a man then. Maybe I could make you some special tools of your own, and a toolbox." He smiled as he watched the boys face light up with excitement.

"Would you, would you Tom? A toolbox like yours? I'd like that very much, then I could…" he hesitated, "what's that?" he asked, pointing down to the distant road leading to Kingsbridge.

Tom's heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

He grabbed the boys arm, pulled him away from the edge of the scaffold. "Quick," he said sharply. "We need to spread the word, Hamleigh is attacking."

…

"Let me through, let me through, I can open it." Tom pushed his way through the crowd of people clamouring to get inside the secure walls of the cathedral, trying to get away from the flames and the confusion and Hamleigh's brutal men.

"I can open it. Ease back, let me through."

"Please, please, open it." Desperate voices swirled around his head, hands grabbed at him, bodies jostled against his.

"Don't worry, I can open it." Tom reached inside the side panel, unhooked the latch, and swung the doors open. He stood back against the open door as the villagers swarmed inside. They were frightened, desperate.

Ellen stopped in front of him. She had Jonathon & Martha by her side. Her eyes were concerned. He could see that she wanted him to enter the safety of the cathedral with the rest of them, but he couldn't. He brushed the side of her face with his lips reassuringly, and she looked at him with her deep eyes. 'Be safe,' she implored him, without speaking.

When everyone was safely inside, Tom shut the doors and latched them again from the outside. Martha had called for him to stay inside, but he couldn't. Couldn't hide inside the building whilst Hamleigh and his henchmen had free rein to burn the fleece fair. His mind was racing. He needed to stop them before they burned the town. He needed to find himself a weapon of some sort. Needed to see if there were any other people still out there in need of sanctuary.

As he walked away from the cathedral doors, there was an eerie silence. Most people were in the priory or the cathedral, and it seemed that the only sound was the crackle of flames.

Then he heard the thud of a horse's hooves. A massive brown warhorse came into view ridden by Hamleigh himself. He stared at Tom with pure hatred in his eyes.

Tom felt exposed and vulnerable, he was on foot and unarmed. If Hamleigh decided to attack him he would have no defence. Even the scaffold of the cathedral was not low enough to stop Hamleigh's horse.

He realised all he could do was stand his ground. Whatever happened to him, the important thing was to stop Hamleigh from getting inside the cathedral.

He spoke in his quiet, rough voice.

"I'm alone and I'm unarmed Hamleigh. I'm an easy target for you."

"Yes you are," he spat. "And don't think that I'll show you any mercy just because of it. It just makes my task easier."

"So you would kill an unarmed man in the very shadow of God's cathedral. The cathedral that he's building."

Hamleigh sneered. "Don't try and play that card with me Builder. I've waited for this opportunity for years."

Tom shrugged. "Well I suppose there's nothing I can do or say then." He dropped his hands down by his side. "If I die now, I die with honour, defending what I believe in. And God will take me to heaven and I'll sit by his side and watch the men I've trained complete this building. Because nothing you do will stop this cathedral from being built. Nothing. It's God's will"

"You underestimate me." Hamleigh's voice was thick with hatred. "I will destroy Kingsbridge and I will destroy this pathetic construction."

"You would destroy a priory town? Destroy a cathedral?"

"I have absolution from the Bishop. I can destroy what I want, kill whomever I want."

Tom shook his head. "You can try, but you'll never destroy the desire of good people to worship what they believe in."

Hamleigh reined in his restless horse, laughed.

"Laugh as much as you like Hamleigh, but I'm doing God's work. Waleran may grant you absolution to attack the market, but he's just a man. He's only using you to achieve his own ends. To get power for himself. Do you really think his word will save you from God's wrath when you kill an unarmed builder of His cathedral in cold blood?"

He could see the fear in Hamleigh's eyes. Fear and loathing and the desire for blood.

Tom was silent. And for a moment, the only sound he could hear was the pounding of his own heart.

And then, as if in slow motion, he watched Hamleigh throw his sword up, catch it by the blade with his gloved hand just below the hilt, wheel his horse around and gallop towards him.

He wasn't sure what Hamleigh planned to do but as the horse thundered behind him he turned and stepped to one side and the heavy blow from the hilt of Hamleigh's sword that was aimed squarely at the back of his head, glanced sharply off the side of his forehead.

As the sharp pain raced through his skull, the ground swung alarmingly around his feet and he struggled to remain upright. But the wound was not deep and he stood his ground. He turned to face Hamleigh who had pulled up his horse in front of the cathedral doors. He felt the warmth of his own blood trickle down his face.

"You will burn in hell for all eternity William Hamleigh if you kill me now or attack this cathedral. And nothing that Waleran can do or say will prevent it. Leave us now and save your own soul."

Hamleigh sneered. "Your words mean nothing to me Builder. One day I will bring the Bishop here and he will bless me and grant me absolution in front of your pathetic eyes. And then I will destroy this worthless town and this excuse for a cathedral, and I will destroy you. And all your work, all your planning and pathetic dedication to God, will have all been for nothing."

But as he spoke, Tom could see the fear behind his empty words.

Hamleigh wheeled his horse around abruptly and digging the beast viciously in the flanks with his heels, spurred it to a gallop. And as he rode through the burning remains of the fair, Tom could hear him calling his men away. Finally, the screams of people, the clash of swords and the thunder of hooves died away and Kingsbridge lay silent.

…

"Tom, are you alright?" Someone had opened the doors of the cathedral and people were streaming out. Ellen ran up to him, her brow knitted, face concerned.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine, it's just a bang to the head." He was leaning against the scaffold, his head and his heart pounding. He saw the people who had taken refuge in the priory mixing with those from the cathedral, everyone searching for their loved ones. He saw Philip take Jonathon by the hand, Martha embracing Aliena.

Ellen touched his forehead gently. "Come with me Tom, back to the cave, and I can treat your wound properly. I have a paste that I can use on it."

He shook his head. "No, I told you I'm not going back there. I'm finished at the cave Ellen."

"Tom…" she frowned.

"No. I made it clear to you when I was there last. My head will be fine. In fact," he took her hand and started walking, "I think it's time you came with me."

"Where are we going?" she ran to keep up the pace he was setting.

He strode determinedly through the smouldering remains of the fleece fair. Past bodies and bales of burning wool. "We're going somewhere I should have taken you years ago. We need to talk and we need to make some decisions."

She tried to pull her hand out of his grip. "I have no desire to talk to you Tom. As long as I know you are not hurt, then I shall take my leave."

"No Ellen," he stopped abruptly, swung her around to face him. "I know you're angry with me for going along with Philips's scheme for Jack to join the monkhood, but surely you understand I did it for his own sake."

"How? How was it for his sake Tom? How does having my son join your unholy church make it for his own sake."

Tom shook his head, gripped her hand tighter. "Come with me. We can't have this conversation in the street."

"No, I need to be leaving Tom. Or I won't get back to the cave before dark and I don't like being out in the forest after sunset."

As he strode through the streets of the village, his face was impassive, but his voice was strained. "No, Ellen, you're not going back there tonight. Or ever in fact."

"What?"

They turned the corner into a street with larger houses than the rest of the village. "You're coming with me, and you're staying with me."

"Tom, no, you know…"

He stopped at the doorway of a large four room house, pushed open the heavy wooden door and guided her into a spacious room with a fireplace and chimney at one end and a big wooden table and chairs in the middle. Pots and pans hung from hooks around the fireplace, other pieces of furniture held plates and cups and jars. Some pots stuffed with lavender sat on the table.

"Is this your house Tom?"

He nodded. "It's my house, it's our house Ellen."

She walked around the room, inspecting every corner of it, running her finger along the furniture. "It's a very fine house. But I'm not staying here."

"Oh, I think you are, but…" he held up his hand, stopped her from interrupting him. "But first we need to finish talking about Jack."

"There is nothing to say." She folded her arms.

"Yes there is Ellen. You surely understand why I went along with Philip. Firstly, if I didn't then he would've banished Jack from Kingsbridge. This way, he's allowed to stay and he's allowed to work with me on the cathedral. He's Philip's eyes and ears on the building, so he's working far more closely with me than he ever did before. I can teach him so much this way Ellen."

"But why did he have to become a monk to do this?"

"Philip believes that God saved Jack from certain death at Lincoln for a reason. Philip believes that Jack has a saintly purpose."

"And you? Why do you think he should be a monk? Or are you just Philip's yes man now."

Tom raised his eyebrows at her comment. "No Ellen, I think you know exactly why I went along with him becoming a monk. His soul needs to be saved."

He paused.

"Jack told me that he burnt down the church."

She turned, stared at him "He told you that?"

"Yes…" He stared back at her, his eyes pained. "He burned down a church Ellen. He needs God's forgiveness. And dedicating himself to the church and the building of the new cathedral will get him that."

She shook her head. "Surely you don't really believe that Tom"

He touched her arm gently, his face open. "You know I do Ellen. And you should too."

"I shall never believe it Tom Builder. I'm leaving."

She walked towards the door but he stepped in front of her, blocking her access.

"No Ellen. I said before that we had some decisions to make. Jack is not the only thing we have to talk about. You'll be staying until we've talked properly."

"And how are you going to make me stay?"

Abruptly, he bent slightly, picked her up around the waist and hoisted her, face down over his shoulder, walked up the stairs.

She struggled, hit him on the backside, but from her position hanging head down over his shoulder, there was little she could do. He reached the top of the stairs and turned into the room on the right. It was light and airy with sun streaming through the window, and was dominated by a large carved four poster feather bed. He tipped her unceremoniously onto it and kicked the heavy door shut behind him.

She lay on her back and looked around the simply furnished room, admired the carvings on the bed.

"This is a beautiful bed Tom."

He nodded. "It's ours."

"Ours?"

"Our marriage bed. I made it when you first went to live in the cave. When I thought that you'd be there for a couple of months and then we'd be married. I've been waiting for you to come back to me ever since."

"Tom, don't try and guilt me into staying." She lay on the bed looking up at him.

He shrugged, "I'm not trying to guilt you into staying. I'm simply telling you that you will be."

He stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at her. "Think about it, if you stay, we can sleep in this bed every night. We can make love whenever we want. We can eat together every evening, sleep in each others' arms every night, wake up together every morning. We can live a normal life Ellen. And..." he raised his eyebrows, "I've decided that it's going to start right here and now."

"What do you mean it's going to start right here and now?"

He unlaced and removed his over tunic, then slipped his shirt off over his head.

"We're going to make love in our bed. Right now. The same way we're going to do every night from now on."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "We're going to make love right now?"

He nodded. "Yes. We are."

"I'm sorry Tom. No. I'm going back to the cave before it gets dark."

"No, you're not Ellen."

"Tom…"

He pulled off his boots, unlaced his pants. "So you're telling me that you don't feel the desire to lay with me. That the fact that we almost lost our lives today, has had no effect on you. Because I'm telling you, my mind and my body are racing right now and there's nothing more I want, nothing more I need, than to lay with you." He looked at her intently, and she could see the desire in his eyes.

He slipped off his pants and lay down naked on the bed next to her. Stretched his long body out along the length of hers. She felt the pulse of his hard cock against her hip, the pounding of his heart in his chest.

"Tom…" She placed her hand on his chest over his heart. She had never felt it beat like this. His body was hot, almost feverish. Despite his ever calm exterior, she could feel the dramatic effect that his encounter with William Hamleigh had had on him.

He kissed her neck gently, ran his big hand over her belly and hips, then up to her breast. He cupped it in his palm through her dress and thumbed her nipple, sending a shiver of desire up her spine.

"You can lay with me, right here and now or you can leave," he murmured into her neck, his hands continuing to caress her body. "It's up to you. But understand this. If you leave, I won't follow you. If you leave then it's over between us. But, if you stay, you have to promise to stay here with me for good. To marry me and live with me in this house, sleep with me every night in this bed."

She sighed as she enjoyed the feel of his restless hands on her body. "You know I love you Tom. You know I can't resist your body and you know I want to lay with you. But Tom, I can't marry you. I can't marry you just because you say I have to. Your words don't change the situation."

"Ellen, there is no situation. It's all in your head." He spoke quietly as he continued to kiss her, nibble her neck, caress her body. "If Waleran really wanted to find you he would have done it by now. The cave isn't that well hidden and it's hardly a secret after all these years that I see you there. But if that changes and he does decide to target you, then you'll be better off here with me than in the forest alone. I've told you this. I've told you everything. We've talked about this enough. And now I'm not going to talk anymore."

He ran his big warm hand up her thigh, under her dress.

"Either you lay with me now and we stay together here forever, or you leave and make your own way in the world. Leave me to make my own way."

"Tom, I don't want to leave you, but if Philip expects me to come back to the church…."

"He doesn't Ellen. I've told you that. He has Jack, and as long as we marry in the sight of God, Philip will accept that. I've told you this time and time again."

"Why should I have to marry in the sight of God just because Philip decrees? He lapped gently at the hollow at the base of her throat and she shivered.

"We will marry in the sight of God because I decree it Ellen, not Philip. He does not rule my life."

He untied her belt, unwrapped her dress from around her body, sank his mouth to her exposed breast.

"But if it is that abhorrent to you to marry me, then you must leave now."

She arched her back as he licked and teased her nipple, wound her hands in his hair.

"Please don't make me leave you Tom."

He slid his warm naked body over hers, nudged her legs apart with his thigh, and kissed her passionately, winding his tongue in her mouth. "I'm not going to make you do anything Ellen. If you want me to stop, just tell me," he whispered into her mouth. "Tell me, then get up and leave."

"I love you Tom Builder," she raised her hips up to his, "I love you."

"Then marry me Ellen," he murmured. "Marry me and live with me, bear me a child."

"Tom…" she moved against him desperately, trying to get him inside her.

"No Ellen," he ran his hands down to her hips, held her down against the bed. "You're not having me until you agree to marry me."

She groaned, "Tom…"

"Marry me Ellen. Marry me and live with me, bear me a child. Or leave me now."

"No, I won't leave you Tom"

"Then will you stay?"

She was silent.

"Will you stay?" he repeated, his voice low and throaty.

"Yes" she murmured, her words barely audible.

"Will you stay?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He slid his hands down to her thighs, pushed them wide. She could feel the head of his cock pushing against her.

"Marry me Ellen"

"Yes," she said, her voice quiet but firm, "yes."

"Marry me"

"Yes Tom Builder, I will marry you."

He thrust into her hard, his big cock stretching her wide. She moaned, arched her back as he rammed into her.

He gritted his teeth, "you have to mean this Ellen, you have to mean this because I love you and I need you. I want you to be my wife."

She wrapped her legs around his waist. Pushed her hips up against his as he thrust into her.

"Of course I mean it. You know that I don't say things that I don't mean."

"Marry me"

"Yes"

"Live with me"

"Yes"

"Bear me a child"

"Yes…" she sighed, "yes."

"You're so beautiful Ellen," he whispered "I love you with all my heart." He buried his face into the side of her neck, slowed his pace to a long, deep, sensual thrust.

"Sssssh," she held her finger to his lips. "That is enough talking, just love me now, love me in this beautiful bed." She stretched into it. "This is so soft," she purred, "it's like laying on a cloud."

"I know," he replied, "I've been sleeping in it for five years"

"And have you ever lain with anyone in it before?"

He frowned, "No, of course not… only myself."

She looked at him, narrowed her eyes slyly. "Tom Builder, are you telling me that you pleasured yourself?"

"Of course," he murmured, "but I only ever think of you, naked in that cave. I miss you so much when you're away from me. And thinking about you, thinking about your lips and your beautiful body, thinking about being inside you, makes me so hard."

"Do it now."

"Do what?" he murmured, his hot breath in her ear.

"Pleasure yourself for me. Spill your seed on me Tom."

"No," he whispered.

"Please Tom, I want to watch you come"

"No," he shook his head. "No, I've waited too long to be inside you Ellen. We haven't lain together for weeks. I want to come inside you. Let me come inside your body." He dug his fingers into her hips, she could tell he was close.

"Tom…" she arched her back, his words making her melt. "Please Tom, I'm burning, I'm burning for you. But don't come yet. I want you to last." She moved her hips down and away from him and rolled off of the bed and onto her feet. He felt the wet heat of her body replaced by the now chill air of the room.

He sat back on his knees, "Ellen what are you doing to me," he groaned.

"No Tom, if I'm going to stay, if I'm going to be your wife, if we are going to make love in our bed for the first time, I don't want to do it half dressed." She slipped off her remaining clothing and stood before him naked.

He looked at her through eyes heavy with desire. "Come here," he murmured, his voice rough. She took a few steps towards the bed. "On your knees," he growled.

She knelt on the bed in front of him, their faces level, and she reached out to touch his face gently.

"No, the other way," his voice was ragged, his eyes lustful.

She turned, so she was facing away from him, and he bent her forward from the waist, ran his warm, rough hands over the soft skin of her backside.

She felt him move his body closer to her, take her by the hips. He leaned forward, his chest against her back. He whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending a shiver through her body, "you arouse me Ellen, you arouse me like no other."

"Please Tom," she murmured, "please."

He pushed her thighs wider with his legs as he kneeled behind her and she groaned as he held her hard and rammed into her. She leaned forward into the pillow as he thrust harder and deeper.

She was helpless to do anything. Couldn't kiss him, touch him, see him. She could do nothing except enjoy the softness of the pillow under her face, surrender to the extraordinary sensations that were sweeping through her body from the pounding of his heavy cock inside her.

He was a big man, with a broad chest, muscular thighs and a big thick cock. He was a strong man, his body lean and hard from years of manual labour. But in all the years she had known him, lain with him, loved him, he had never used his strength. Had never tried to dominate her, bend her to his will.

But as she lay face down on the bed, as he held her hips high and rammed into her, as he held her on the brink of climax, she could feel his strength ready to explode in her. She realised then how much she truly wanted him, that she wanted to marry him, wanted to feel his child growing inside her, wanted to spend her life with him, grow old with him.

And as he groaned his desperate release, as she felt him come hard inside her, and as the waves of pleasure swept over their bodies, she realised what a fool she had been. A fool for wasting these precious years hiding in the forest. Years that she could have spent with him, in this house, in this bed, in this life.

And as they lay together, his big sweaty body collapsed over hers, his hot breath rasping in her ear; a tear rolled down her cheek.

She could have so easily lost him at the cruel hands of William Hamleigh just a few short hours ago. And her heart broke as she imagined what could have been, how her life could have been so instantly torn apart. She imagined herself kneeling beside his lifeless body, her head on his silent chest, instead of laying with him here, feeling his powerful heart pounding against her back, his strong warm body wrapped around hers. And in that moment she vowed that she would never leave his side again.

"Marry me…" he whispered.

"Yes."

And he knew her words to be true.

…

Prologue:

It was a cold winters day as Tom trudged through the muddy streets of Kingsbridge. The weather had been clear but the ground was saturated from weeks of rain and the stone was wet. Philip was agitated with the slow progress of work, and Tom had spent a frustrating few hours with him. Surely after all these years he understood the vagaries of winter work, Tom thought to himself tiredly.

Construction had been underway for ten years now and everyone involved was growing restless. Sometimes it seemed they were no closer to completion than they had been five years ago. He sighed, sometimes he felt he was the only one who still had the vision of what could be.

Philip had suggested changing the plans, reducing the size of the building to ensure it could be finished within the 15 year timeframe they had originally discussed. But Tom had stood his ground. He hoped his quiet words, his determined counsel had eased Philip's mind. He didn't tell him that it was likely to take many, many more years than they had originally planned to finish this ambitious construction.

But the further he got away from the cathedral and the closer to home, the better he felt. It was as though he was casting aside his burden with each step he took. And when he pushed open the heavy wooden door of his house, he smiled for the first time that day.

Ellen turned from the fire with a tired smile, she was preparing the evening meal, baby girl on her hip. A determined bundle of toddler jumped in front of him, eager for attention, and Tom swung the little boy easily into his big arms, kissed him, tickled his face with his beard making him giggle uncontrollably. Martha was sitting at the table, a young woman now, laughing with her husband Sam, their baby girl in her lap. And 12 year old Jonathon was trying to explain Latin to the chattering five year old boy next to him.

He walked over to Ellen, held her by the hips and kissed her long and slowly on the mouth.

"You look tired Tom," she murmured, running her hand over his greying beard.

He kissed the baby in her arms gently on the head, raised his eyebrows, "no, I'm fine, just a bit of a frustrating day today. But," he said, surveying the room, "nothing like the day you've had by the look of it."

She laughed her melodious laugh that never failed to lighten his heart, "oh, you know I wouldn't have it any other way Tom Builder."

And as he sat wearily down in his chair by the fire, stretched out his tired legs and surveyed the chaos in the big room, he smiled contentedly to himself. Laughing toddlers, chattering children, young love, the smell of supper on the fire, his beautiful wife.

Life, love, family.

He was a simple man, and he knew then that all he'd ever really wanted from life was right here in this room.

...

RIP Tom Builder


End file.
